The InnerWorkings of Lily Evans' Mind
by Kuddls
Summary: My mind is a horridly messy place so I decided to put it all down in a diary the diary of Lily Evans. Formorly called The Diary of Lily Evans, but I changed the title and the summary. Please r&r.
1. Happy Christmas!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

"Oi! Harry get up!" Ron Weasley said through a mouthful of chocolate frog.

"Gerraf me," Harry mumbled sleepily.

"But it's Christmas morning! _And_ you've got presents!" Ron shouted.

With this Harry leapt off his bed, and onto the pile of presents on the floor. "Ron, did you open all your presents without me?" Harry said noticing all the gift-wrap on the floor.

"Only some," Ron replied, "but I couldn't wait, and you couldn't wake up!"

Harry laughed as he opened present after present, and there was only one left. "Who's this from?" Harry asked Ron who was trying to decide which sweet to eat next.

"Dunno," said Ron, tearing his eyes away from his enormous pile of goodies, and looking at the present wrapped in silvery paper. "It looks kind of like a book. Maybe Hermione gave it to you?"

"No, she gave me some treats from Honeydukes," said Harry.

"Well, you're not going to find out by staring at it. Just open the present, maybe there's a note inside," suggested Ron. Harry tore through the paper and found a withered book, bound in red leather. He opened it up, and sure enough a note fell out.

Harry

I came across this account of your mum's 7th year in Hogwarts one day, and thought you might like to have it. It should put your mind at ease if you had any doubts about your mum and dad's relationship. Hope you enjoy it.

Happy Christmas,

Remus J. Lupin

"Woah!" said Ron. "We've got to read this!" Harry agreed, so they opened it up and began reading the diary of Lily Evans.

Chapter 2: Hello dear diary 

Harry and Ron opened the old book, and found his mom's unfamiliar handwriting, and they began to read immediately.

**In my room, late at night, July 17th 1981** Dear diary, 

Hello! I'm sorry for the mess inside my mind that you'll have to endure. I'm actually a very neat person, it's just that my mind isn't a very clean place. Okay, that sounded wrong, I don't have dirty thoughts or anything, I was just trying to say I have a lot of thoughts, that I don't organize, but really, who organizes their thoughts? My name is Lily Marie Evans, and I'm 17-years-old as of today. I got this diary as a birthday present from my Aunt Linda, and I decided to keep my thoughts in it.

I'm planning on keeping this diary a lot longer than I've kept all my other diaries. It's kind of weird though, talking to a blank book, that (hopefully) no one is going to read. Oh, well I'll get over it. On to my story. Today was a wonderful day. I awoke and went downstairs to see my family and friends all welcoming me. I blushed bright red when I remembered I was still in my nightclothes, and had bedhead, but forgot about it almost instantly when I saw all my presents! They were terrific, well all except for 1. My loving (not) sister Petunia, decided it would be great idea to get me a half-full container of paper clips for my birthday! And do you know what my mum said when I opened it? Well obviously you don't since you're a blank book. Anyway, she said, "It's the thought that counts." Can you believe her! I know what the thought was when she wrapped this up in the old, musty newspapers. The thought was _I don't want to waste any money on that witch (who I'm extremely jealous of, but will never admit to it), so I'm just going to give her this old container of paper clips, that I'll probably never use anyway, and I'll wrap it up in one of the old newspapers under my bed! _I didn't say this of course, I just smiled at Petunia who smirked (can you believe she had the nerve to smirk at me!) and muttered my thanks. But the best part came after the presents. We were eating my favorite breakfast (blueberry pancakes with maple syrup) when a tawny owl flew in through the window. It landed in Petunia's pancake stack and she shrieked and fell back in her chair(absolutely priceless), and my best friend Mary Beth got a photo of it! She's from a wizarding family, so she had one of those cameras that can make pictures move. Anyway, the owl gave me a letter telling me I'm head girl! They didn't tell who head boy is, however, and it frustrates me a bit. I've been going over it in my head, and I've decided it'll be Frank Longbottom, Lucas Tornum (a hot boy, might I add), or Thomas Dorgan. I suppose I'll just have to wait and see on September 1st, (I really wish it's be Lucas Tornum, yum)! Haha, that rhymes. Alrighty, my mum is yelling at me to turn off my light, so goodbye.

Lily

"Wicked," said Ron. "Tornum, why does that name sound familiar?"

"Isn't that the last name of that Ravenclaw in fourth year?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, the goody-goody," said Ron.

"My mum could have been _his_," Harry said with a hint of disgust.

"Wow," said Ron, "well I've had enough reading for now, haven't you?"

"Yeah, let's go get some breakfast," Harry said. With that, the two boys got dressed and went down to breakfast, abandoning the book.

A/N I renamed this because I discovered that there was already a fan fiction with the same title.


	2. The Vengeful Lily

Disclaimer: I don't own it. Wow, I bet you didn't see that coming.

"I don't feel like sleeping," Ron said.

Harry shrugged and got into bed. Then he noticed a red book in his bed. "Hey Ron, we never started reading my mum's diary again.

"That's right," he said.

**Late at night, in my room, July 25th (or 26th) 1981**

Dear diary,

It's Lily again. Sorry I haven't written for a week. Wait, why am I apologizing to a book? I think I really am going insane. Well, there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for not writing. My mum has been working me to the bone! You see I've been grounded for no good reason! And it all could have been prevented, if Potter hadn't shown up! I haven't told you about Potter have I? Well, he's an arrogant, pig-headed, bullying prick, whose soul purpose in life is to make mine a living hell! Well, this story is all his fault.

I was lying in bed, when my mum called to me from downstairs. "Lily, you're father and I are going out for a while, please take out the garbage while we're gone!"

"Aright mum," I called back. Big mistake. A few minutes after I heard the door slam I went downstairs to take out the garbage. I was halfway down the stairs when I saw Potter standing in _my_ doorway. I was so surprised that I tumbled down the steps. I swore under my breath, as I went to face that prick that was standing in _my_ doorway.

"Hello Evans," he said smirking, (_smirking_, can you believe that? He has no right to smirk at me while he is standing in _my _doorway). "A bit uncoordinated this morning aren't we?" I was about to answer back when Petunia decided to barge in.

"Witch," she said (that's her nickname for me when our parents aren't around), "mum said to take out the garbage. Maybe your little friend can help you." I was about to say that he most defnantly wasn't my friend, when I was (yet again) interrupted.

"Gladly," Potter answered, as he picked up a box that needed to go to the garbage. I picked up the garbage bag and we made our way to the garbage. Now, I live in an apartment, so the dumpsters are at the end of the long row of buildings (A/N yes, some apartments do have 2 stories, and some do allow dogs). Halfway through our walk I decided to speak.

"Well Potter?" I asked.

"Yes Evans?" he returned.

"Why are you here?" I asked, with every hint of disdain in my voice.

"Well, I've come here to tell you something," he answered, smirking.

"Well spit it out," I said.

"Well, you're Head Girl, and I'm Head Boy," he said smirking again.

I stopped dead in my tracks, and I dropped the bag on my toe, then I screamed. That's right I screamed. And when I say screamed, I mean I screamed! It wasn't one of those short shrieks, I screamed a loud, drawn out, bloody murder scream. In the middle of my scream Potter aparated. Dogs started to bark, and some people even came out of their houses. Including the Figgs. Now, Arabella Figg was a kind lady, who loved cats. Her husband died a couple years ago, and left her with a young daughter named Amelia, whom I've been baby-sitting every summer since she was born. Well, she and her daughter came out after my scream had finished and I began to cuss. "The bloody nerve of that damn son of a bitch! I hope he goes to hell, and comes back so I can beat the shit out of him!" I said this quite loudly, and Mrs. Figg looked completely shocked, and Amelia was laughing. I don't baby-sit anymore.

And as if that wasn't enough, the neighbor's 2 rotwiellers got loose and began to chase me. They chased me all the way to my house, and one even scratched me! I barely made it inside my house, to find Petunia laughing. She had apparently seen the whole thing, and hadn't even tried to help me! Then she pointed to the carpet. I looked down and realized I had gotten blood on my mum's white carpet. Now, my mum is quite the neat freak. Once when I was 7 I had accidentally gotten some blood on the carpet and I was sent to bed without supper and grounded the next day. I realized I was going to get into more trouble, and I fainted.

A couple hours later I woke up to an empty house, in the same spot, on the blood stained carpet. Apparently, Petunia decided I deserved this and she left. I was completely horrified that I had stained my mum's beloved carpet and ran upstairs to get my wand. I came back down and was about to clean up the mess when the door opened. I swung around, accidentally knocking over my mum's favorite vase, and saw Petunia and her beloved boyfriend Vernon standing there. Petunia had a horrified look on her face (she hadn't told Vernon I could do magic), and Vernon had a confused look on his face.

"That's her destructive stick," Petunia quickly lied, "she uses it to destroy things."

Vernon grunted, and I opened my mouth to protest when the door swung open to reveal my mum and dad. My mum immediately noticed the blood and the vase, and screamed.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice dangerously quiet. I was about to explain when Petunia opened her mouth.

"Well, Lily broke your vase, but she cut herself while doing it. So I was trying to help her not get blood on the carpet, and she threatened me with her destruction stick. Oh, and she cussed at the Figgs, and left the garbage in the middle of the street."

My mum looked as if she were about to explode. "Lily Marie Evans," she bellowed (I'm sure all of Britain heard her), "go to your room this instant, and do not come down until I tell you to! Don't turn on your radio, or TV, and don't write in that bloody diary of yours! Just go straight to sleep, or clean! NOW!"

My mum only cusses when she's mad, and I've never seen her more mad. Anyway, she grounded me for a week. Every day I have to do chores and run errands. Today I had to clean out the garage and attic, alphabetize all the tapes and videos in the house, clean the cars for every person in the building, and cook dinner, and do the dishes afterwards. You think that's bad? Well, today isn't the worst! Yesterday, I had to buy a long list of things from the grocery store (I had to walk, and the nearest store is 1 mile away, and I had to make 2 trips), clean out the garage, then scrub it from top to bottom, then clean out all the animal cages (we have 4), and chronologically organize all the pictures in the house (we have dozens of pictures in our house! Oh and there was one day when I had to clean Petunia's room, among other things. Thank goodness I'm going to my friend's house for the rest of the summer tomorrow!

This is all Potter's fault! If he hadn't have come, then I would've taken out the garbage peacefully, and gone about the rest of my day. I would not have screamed bloody murder in the middle of the street. I would not have lost my summer baby-sitting job. I would not have been chased by 2 bloodthirsty dogs. I would not have gotten blood on the carpet. I would not have accidentally broken my mom's vase. Most importantly, I would not have had a week from hell, because of punishment! I am going to get Potter for this one, if it's the last thing I do! I'm tired now, maybe I'll write more tomorrow, while I'm at Mary's.

Love,

The vengeful Lily

"Jeez," said Ron, "you're mum really doesn't like your dad."

"Yeah," said Harry. He'd heard that his mom and dad didn't get along, but they had gotten together, right? He hoped that he would find out just how they had gotten together through this book. "I don't feel like reading anymore tonight, let's go to sleep." With that, Harry turned out the light.


	3. The Unwelcome Surprise

Disclaimer: To everyone who thinks I'm JK Rowling, go look in my profile. I'm not, so obviously I don't own Harry Potter.

Harry and Ron went to their room, coming back from breakfast.

"Do you want to read some more of my mum's diary?" asked Harry.

"Sure," said Ron, "let's read in the common room."

"Okay," agreed Harry.

**In Mary's guest room, July 26th 1981**

Dear Diary,

Before I tell you the story of my day, let me give you some information on Mary. She and I met on my first train ride to Hogwarts. I couldn't get onto the platform, and she helped me, and we decided to share a compartment. She became my best friend, along with Alice Prewett. Mary is a pure blood (someone who comes from an all-wizarding family), and is distantly related to Elaine Prince. This had never been interesting information to me until today. Now on with the story.

Let me first begin by telling you of earlier that day. I was so excited to finally be off my grounding and going to Mary's. I was all packed up and ready to go. Eventually, Mary came through floo powder, and we descended to her house the same way.

When we arrived, she led me to her room and put my bags down. Soon enough we were laughing and talking about our summers (I vented to her about James Potter, of course). Then someone came into the door. A certain someone I despise. A certain someone by the name of, wait, I'm being called to lunch.

Until later,

Lily

**In Mary's room, again, considerably happier than before, still July 26, 1981**

Dear Diary,

So where was I? Oh yes, I was telling you about Mary's horrible guest. Well, normally I ask for suggestions (I love hearing the wrong predictions of others), but you're just a book, so you wouldn't answer anyway, right?

…

…

…

I thought so. Oh, help me, I'm conversing with a book. Anyway, today after my shock I had some fun with the guest involving muggle and wizard pranks.

I've gotten off topic, I do that a lot, you know. Obviously you don't know, since you don't know me and you're an inanimate object that is incapable of knowing me or anything about me.

As I was saying, I get off topic a lot. Like this one time I was debating with my divination teacher, (it's really no use, you know, to debate with teachers because no matter what you say, the teacher wins), and I began to debate about whether or not I was going to meet an untimely demise ("I can see it in this teacup, I'm very skilled at this." "You're just being stupid, how can you tell whether or not I'm going to die by just looking into cups?"). Awfully useless subject, divination is, I don't know why I took it, I think I thought it was going to be fun, but it was horrid. I make a lot of bad assumptions, but at the moment I'm trying to explain how I easily get off topic, so I'll just fill you in on bad assumptions later. Eventually, the debate turned into a debate on which teacups were better for the class ("You expect us to take this class seriously, when we use pink teacups? Pink is such a frivolous color!").

Have I mentioned how much I truly hate the color pink? It's absolutely horrid! I don't know what it is about the color, but I just can't stand it! It's not like I'm a tomboy or anything, I just don't like pink. My favorite color is a dark, sparkly purple. I used to have two favorite colors up until the fourth grade when I was informed I couldn't have two favorite colors. They were dark blue and sparkly red, so I just combined them.

Now what was I going to write? Oh, right! I was going to explain how I make bad assumptions. Like coming here, I thought it's be fun and everything, but it just turned out to be, well, I guess it did turn out fun. Okay, bad example, I normally don't give bad examples, and am quite good at arguing. Let me think of another one. I've got it! James Potter; when I first met him, it was on the train to Hogwarts, first year. He let me sit in a compartment with him and his friend Sirius, and two other boys who'd joined the compartment named Peter and Remus. These four would turn out to be the infamous Marauders, but I'll get to that later. So he let me sit with all of them and even helped with my luggage. I thought him to be quite nice. At least I did, until he purposefully spilled neon pink goo all over my hair. He tried to convince me it was accidental, but I knew much better than that. I declared war, and we've hated each other ever since.

It particularly annoys me when he asks me out. He's been doing it since third year. About halfway through fourth year, he tried to convince me he really liked me. I'm not that thick. He asks me out whenever he gets the chance and I can't stand it!

He always acts so surprised whenever I reject him, too. I mean, I must've done it like a thousand times (not exaggerating) and each time I say no he acts all shocked and shaken. But seriously, he's an annoying, bullying, prat!

He is so good at quidditch and transfiguration, so he feels the need to brag to everyone about it. Plus he pranks everyone in sight, including moi. He ruffles his sexy, jet-black hair so much just because it looks good! I mean, not his sexy black hair but his _messy_ black hair. That's what I meant. He's also incredibly mean to some people for no reason whatsoever. I bet he does it just to annoy me.

He's always trying to annoy or impress me just so I'll go out with him! The nerve! Does he not get that no matter how many times he wins a quidditch match or turns my hair bright pink that I will never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever

**_ever_** go out with him! However I don't think that'll happen until it snows in Miami.

"Harry, Ron!" Hermione called out. "Where _are_ you?"

"Over here," Harry called from where he was reading the book with Ron in front of the fire.

"There you are," said an exasperated Hermione. "Are you two reading? I don't believe it! What is it you're reading anyway?" She snatched the red, leather bound book from Harry's hand and flipped to the front cover. "This says "private", it's a diary! You're reading some poor girl's diary?"

"Hermione," sighed Harry.

"How _could_ you?" Hermione asked. "Whose diary is this anyway?"

"My mum's answered Harry.

Hermione flipped to the first page. "Oh," she said. "Well, Ginny wants to know if you'd aid her in a snowball fight."

"Sure," said Harry.

"Why not?" agreed Ron.

They left, once again abandoning the book.


End file.
